Several days after the non-consensual sex with Brandon, Camille stood outside of the pale green building with brown trim near the waterfront and wondered if she should have called first. Against her better judgment, she rang the buzzer. There was no answer so she rang it again and then once again. When Maxine Turner finally answered the door she was pleasantly surprised. After all, Camille had cancelled their meeting earlier that week, yet here she was.
The woman from the bar, who shared the same birthday smiled brightly. "Hello stranger."
"Hello yourself," Camille answered, letting her breath escape like the steam from a pressure cooker. "I got your address from your ID. I hope it's ok that I just showed up like this."
"It's more then ok. You were on my mind so I feel like I willed you to me."
Camille didn't know how to respond to that. To her it sounded like some of her roommates new age crap. "This building reminds me of mint chip ice cream," she stammered. "The colors, you know..."
Maxine cut her off, sensing the discomfort in the air. "No one has ever put it quite that way before. Why don't you come in?"
She followed Camille up the flight of stairs focusing intently on the contours of her body. She thought that Brandon was lucky to have a woman with such a nice ass.
"Is this your house or your art studio?"
"It's a live work space. I live up here and work downstairs. That glass door at the street level leads directly to my work space and so does one in my wash room," Maxine said, pointing to the end of the hallway. "Would you like to see it?"
The two of them headed that way and descended a spiral staircase and entered the large space. Maxine walked over to the kitchenette as they talked and came back with two glasses of red wine. Camille wandered around the open studio and looked at the paintings. There were a couple of families but most of them were individuals and they were actually quite good. There was a long black cloth draped over the back wall and in front of it was a three by ten platform. She took a seat on the structure, which was covered in the same fabric and had large pillows strewn about.
"That's where I work." Max turned an easel around so that Camille could view the canvas. It was a nude man lying exactly where she was sitting. She choked on her wine as she sprang up from the platform. Suddenly Camille understood Max's comment about concentrating on the human form.
"Are you ok?"
"Yes."
"Take off your blazer so we can clean it up."
Camille was reluctant because she was wearing a sleeveless blouse and had bruises from last night. Maxine saw the marks on Camille's arms and became aroused, so much so that wetness seeped down into her panties.
"You left the bar with me so is that from Brandon or another lover?"
"Brandon stopped by to apologize after you dropped me off," she blushed.
Max raised an eyebrow. "Did you accept his apology?"
"No. We broke up."
"I'm sorry to hear that." Maxine replied hesitantly. She grabbed a rag that was stained with dried red paint and tenderly dabbed the Merlot that had spilled on Camille's blouse. When the back of her hand grazed her tits, she vowed to herself to remember their softness. As Max kept blotting the wet spot, she held eye contact. They stood body to body as Maxine studied Camille's face. She lightly caressed Camille's cheek with her fingers.
"You have beautiful bone structure."
Camille swallowed to ease her dry throat. "Thank you."
"Your welcome." Max eased forward. "Would you like more wine?"
"God yes," Camille giggled.
Max laughed along with her which dissolved the uncomfortable exchange, but the sexual tension was still choking them. They stayed there in the studio for a few hours bonding. After three glasses of Merlot Camille reluctantly agreed to have a portrait done. The two women compared schedules, and agreed on Mondays at six in the evening for their sessions.
*****
Camille was stuck in meetings all day the following Monday but was preoccupied with her plans for that night. Maxine spent the day shopping for her nieces and nephews and lost track of time. At five o'clock she rushed back to her loft to make herself presentable. Once she was all cleaned up, she turned her attention towards her studio.
Camille changed out of her work clothes into a robe she had brought and then made small talk. She blushed as she passed her friend who was aiming space heaters towards the back of the room.
"Have you ever posed nude?"
"Yes, back in college." Max nodded, "It paid good money and I felt like it was a cut above stripping to buy textbooks."
Camille cinched her robe. "Were you as anxious as I am?"
"Only at the very first session. But now, I'm not ashamed or afraid of my sexuality and you don't have to be either." She tried to think of something to calm Camille's nerves. "Being in touch with your body gives you confidence and freedom."
Camille felt reassured. She untied the peach satin robe and then pulled her hair out of a ponytail. Once she was positioned on the black platform, she took a deep breath and let her inhibitions float away. As Maxine picked up her brush, she wondered how she would interpret this goddess before her.
Over the weeks their conversations grew more personal. Camille confided the events of the night of her birthday that led to her break up with Brandon. After that painful admission things changed between the two women. And even though Camille wandered why the sessions were dragging on week after week with no completion date in sight, the actual sessions were pleasant. She looked forward to them because they were comfortable and familiar. There was a lot of sharing mixed with a lot of wine. Laughter and tears were common but other things were creeping in. Things like hand holding, innocent caresses and quick kisses goodbye.
